


Dinner is Served

by spectaculacularsammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Pure Smut, dr sexy MD, i'm sorry i had to, is it just me or does there need to be more Sam/Reader fics?, silly ending, slightly domestic reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-14 23:38:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2207370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spectaculacularsammy/pseuds/spectaculacularsammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My very first reader request! (YAY!) </p><p>"Hey! I understand you love Sammy :D  I really enjoy what you've written for dirtysupernaturalimagines and want to request a one shot!  Somethin' where the reader is pulling dinner for the boys and Sam is greatly enjoying the view in his half puppy, half mega-ripped sex god way. Dean heads off to sleep and Sam propositions the reader, which leads to some nasty smutty goodness back in his room."</p><p>Well, my dear requester (is that the right term? LOL) You asked for some nasty smutty goodness and nasty smutty goodness you shall receive! Hope you like it. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner is Served

Your phone buzzes on the couch cushion next to you, interrupting a delicious scene from Dr. Sexy MD. (Dean got you hooked) Not looking at the ID you answer the phone, barely taking your eyes away from Dr. Sexy's thick brown hair falling around his face as he gropes Dr. Piccolo in the on-call room.

"Hello?" You mutter around a mouthful of popcorn.

"Hey! ________, it's Sam. You're on speakerphone. We just wanted to let you know we cleaned out the nest of vamps and we'll be back in about three hours."

"Oh hey. Wow! That was quick!" You say while pausing your new favorite show.

Watching Dr. Sexy get it on with the hot intern is as close to sex as you've gotten in weeks and you aren't going to miss a single thing.

Sam and Dean had left the bunker the night before and you hadn't expected them back for a couple days at least, this was going to put a cramp in your couch potato marathon. You quickly decide you're okay with that.

"Yeah, 'cause we're friggen awesome!" Dean yells in the background.

You laugh at Dean's boastings. "You guys want me to pick up some dinner for you?"

"Thanks, that'd be awesome." Sam replies.

"Get me some pie, ______! Apple! No wait, pecan! No...cherry pie! Yeah, cherry pie!" Dean says suggestively.

You and Sam snort at the same time. "I'll see what I can do." You laugh. "See you guys when you get back, okay?"

"Sounds good." Sam answers before ending the call. But you hear Dean yell once more before the line goes dead.

"Don't forget the pie!"

You snicker as you toss your phone back on the couch. _Just one more episode._

Two episodes later, the boys are due back in about two hours, so you get dressed and take a car from the bunker and head to the grocery store.

Sam and Dean always get food from the deli, but on that day the piles of fried chicken, pans of instant mashed potatoes and over-steamed veggies look less than appetizing. You decide to make them a home cooked meal. Fresh veggies and a chicken breast for Sam. A thick, perfectly marbled ribeye for Dean, no veggies, just a bag of french fries. (how that boy didn't end up with scurvy was beyond you) and a last, but not least, a bag of frozen cherries and a premade frozen pie crust for Dean's precious cherry pie. Yes, a premade frozen pie crust, who did Dean think you were? Betty Crocker? Besides, he won't care. A pie's a pie.

Back at the bunker, the clock on the wall tells you that you've got an hour until Sam and Dean get back. Hopefully that's plenty of time to get everything done. You change into a pair of black leggings and a tee shirt you stole from Sam awhile ago. You don't want to get anything on your regular clothes, the bunker was lacking in women's clothes and you don't have a whole lot to begin with. You plug your phone into the speakers in the kitchen and dance around the bunker's industrial grade kitchen, putting together Sam's salad. Chopping lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers and onions and then put the covered bowl in the fridge. Then you start to search for a pie pan. They have to have one in here somewhere.

Thirty minutes later, you find one deep in a bottom cupboard. You had to practically bend yourself in half to dig amongst the plethora of stainless steel frying pans. When you locate the glass pie pan, you hear someone clear their throat. You whip around, half startled, to see Sam shirtless, leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, his shirts balled up in his hand.

"Whatchya doing?" Sam asks with a smirk on his face, tossing his bloody and torn shirt in the trash.

Ignoring the flush of warmth making it's way to your cheeks and Sam's perfectly tan abs, you answer, "It was supposed to be a surprise! You guys are early."

"It definitely is a surprise." Sam says, his eyes watching you intently as you fumble with the plastic packaging holding the pie crust. "Need any help with that?" He asks, not waiting for an answer and walking up behind you. He reaches around your arms and helps you open the package, his arms barely touching yours and his chest pressed against your back.

"Uh...thanks." You say with a shaky voice. Sam nods his head and takes a seat at the small table in the kitchen.

You've had a ridiculous crush on the younger Winchester since you've been with them and of course, have been too chicken to do anything about it. You just admired Sam's broad shoulders, his perfect hair and chiseled jaw from the other side of the research table. Always stealing glances over the tops of dusty books and Men of Letters file folders, but now you notice Sam stealing glances up at you. Except they're not as sneaky as you always hoped yours were, it's pretty obvious that Sam is watching you crimp the edges of Dean's pie and bend over to put it in the oven. But it can't be, can't it? Sam watching you?

Sam continues to watch you as you put Dean's steak and his own chicken breast on the stove top grill. You feel him watching you lean down to put the pan of fries in the oven and it makes you so nervous, you fumble with the garlic salt. You hear a small snicker behind you when you drop the lid on the floor. Out of the corner of your eye you see Sam watch you again, as you bend down to pick it up.

With a sudden burst of courage you tease, "Like what you see, Winchester?" But as soon as you say it, your cheeks flush brighter than your finger tips, stained from the frozen cherries.

Sam shifts in his chair uncomfortably, the apples of his cheeks flushing to a red that rivals with your own, but he keeps quiet. He focuses his attention down to the week old newspaper of the table, but you can feel his eyes on you from the other side of the kitchen.

Soon the chicken and the steak are finished cooking, the timer dings for the french fries and the pie is perfectly golden brown. Following the delicious smells coming from the kitchen, Dean makes his way to the small table in the kitchen, tossing a clean tee shirt at Sam. You try to watch discreetly as Sam pulls the tee shirt over his head, but his eyes meet yours and you busy yourself by putting Sam's chicken and some salad on his plate. Then doing the same with Dean's steak and fries and bringing everything to the table, grabbing two beers out of the fridge on your way.

"Dinner is served." You announce with a beaming smile.

Dean pats his belly in delight, "This looks like a mighty fine meal, _______! You gonna eat with us?" You then realize you'd forgotten to get yourself something at the grocery store.

"Uh, yeah, sure." You make a plate with some salad and walk over to the table. Dean had taken the place directly across from Sam and while there is a third chair, the table is small and really only meant for two people. When you sit down your knee knocks Sam's.

"Sorry." You blush as you pour a bit of salad dressing on your lettuce and try to move over a little bit, but a hand moves under the table and rests on your thigh, stopping you. You look up at Sam and he shakes his head just a little bit, barely noticeable. Your cheeks flush again. Dean doesn't notice, he's cutting into his steak and making approving sounds as he eats. Sam notices that you're just eating salad and he cuts his chicken breast in half, moving a piece onto your plate. "No, it's okay. I don't---"

Sam cuts you off with a smile, flashing those beautiful dimples at you, his hazel eyes soft, "I insist." His hand is back on your thigh, squeezing softly and then patting a couple times before moving it back up to the table to cut a bite of chicken.

Dean eats his steak and fries with some serious vigor, finishing quickly and starting on his pie. He eats almost half of it before pushing himself away from the table, you notice his belly is rounded slightly. "Damn fine supper, there, _________!" He lets out a burp and then laughs. "I'm gonna hit the hay. See you two in the morning." And he makes his way down the hallway. "Don't eat my pie!" He calls from across the bunker before closing the door to his bedroom.

Standing up from the table, you gather the three plates and utensils and head to the sink to wash up the dishes. Sam follows you, putting the salad dressing in the fridge. As you start to wash the dishes in the hot soapy water, you feel Sam come up behind you. His hands start at your shoulders, moving down your upper arms, your elbows and forearms, moving into the warm water and finding your hands. Two sets of hands move together in the warm soapy suds, washing the plates and utensils.

"Dinner was amazing, you didn't have to do that," Sam kisses the top of your head, and down to your cheek, nipping at your ear slightly. You can feel his fingers rubbing your hands in the dish water.

"Th-thanks. I know I didn't have to, just thought you'd like it...both you and Dean." Your heart is pounding in your chest and you bite your lip to keep from making any sound as Sam nuzzles and plants soft kisses on your neck and cheeks.

"You're right," Sam whispers, "I did like it, but you know what else I'd like?" His tone is one you've never heard from Sam and it takes you by surprise. Of course you can read between the lines but no...there's no way. Is there?

His hands come out of the dish water and he spins you around in one quick motion, his hands making wet spots on his tee shirt you're wearing. You gasp when you're pressed up against Sam's chest, one of his knees between yours, spreading your legs just a little bit. He bends down and kisses your lips, softly licking them open and you comply.

"Sam," you breathe out through his kisses, "What are you--" you start to ask, but you're cut off when his kisses become more insistent. It's almost a tease, though, because he stops and a small whine slips out of your mouth. Sam smirks down on you.

"You didn't answer me, ______. Do you know what else I'd like?" Your eyes grow wide as you shake your head no. Sam lets out a dark chuckle, "Maybe I should just show you?"

Not giving you time to answer, Sam lifts you up by your hips and wraps your legs around his waist, you can feel him hard through the denim of his jeans. Wordlessly, Sam carries you down the hall past your room, past Dean's room and into his own. He drops you onto his bed and you bounce on the mattress just a bit against his pillows, knees up and bent slightly.

His tee shirt comes off quickly, revealing those tan abs again. His quick fingers work his belt and zipper open, "Watching you dance around the kitchen, making dinner for Dean and I. Seeing you fumble with the pie crust just because I was watching you was incredibly sexy, ______. I've been watching you watch me for so long now, but today," Sam groans, "Today, I can't keep just watching. Do you want to keep just watching?"

You swallow hard, looking up at Sam, his dark eyes, his chiseled chest, the prominent V just above his open jeans that are hanging on his hips dangerously low. "No, Sam. No more watching."

Another low groan falls from Sam's lips and he pushes his jeans and boxers down to the floor. He reaches down and wraps his hand around his hard shaft, giving it a few pumps before he climbs up the bed, stopping when he settles between your knees, pressed against you. He reaches for your shirt - his shirt, and pulls it over your head, bending down to kiss your shoulder, your cleavage, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. Not taking his eyes off of you, he throws it over his shoulder and covers one of your nipples with his mouth, his hand coming up to tease the other. You let a groan, moving your hips up against his.

"So sensitive," he teases darkly, "So eager." Hooking his fingers over the waistband of your leggings, panties too, he pulls everything off and tosses it behind him. Sam's eyes look your now naked body over, taking in every curve, every hill and valley, dragging his bottom lip through his teeth, when his eyes settle between your legs. His hand trails from your knee down to your inner thigh and then to the crease where your leg meets your body. When your hips move up, expecting more, Sam chuckles a little bit under his breath. Gently, he kisses the inside of your thigh and then the small patch of short curly hairs between your legs.

"Wanted to taste you for so long, wanted to hear those little moans fall out of your mouth. I wanna know how sweet you taste," Sam groans as he looks up at you. "Can I taste you?" You nod your head against Sam's soft pillows, wanting more, aching for more. "You gotta say it, ________, I wanna hear you say it."

"Sam, yes, please." You whimper out loud, "Please." You let out a sigh as his tongue separates your soft folds. He licks up your center, his tongue softly flicking your clit and swirling down to tease your opening, and then moving back up to your clit. Sam sucks it into his mouth, circling it with his tongue while he slowly presses a finger inside of you.

Your fingers wind into Sam's soft brown hair, petting and softly tugging appreciatively as his tongue laps greedily, while a second, then a third finger slips inside you. You feel yourself nearing the edge and Sam feels you clench around his fingers. With one last delicious swirl of his tongue, Sam sits up from the bed, leaving you right on the edge.  He reaches for you, still lying on your back and pulls you up to him. His hard cock, near your face, you see a bead of precome dripping from his tip. With out asking, you softly lick his tip, taking him into your mouth slightly. Sam groans as he watches you take him further into your mouth, tongue licking around his hard shaft. A deep groan falls from Sam's mouth and you look up at him.  His hazel eyes are blown, pupils covering all but a small circle of color and they look down on you, watching as you take as much of him as you can into your mouth.

"Thought about you so many times like this. Wanted to see your pretty mouth stretched around my cock. You suck me down so good." Sam praises as he runs his hands down the side of your face, pressing his fingers into your cheeks slightly, so he can feel himself sliding in and out of your mouth. His hips just barely move against your face, fucking your mouth slightly, earning you deep guttural moans from Sam's lips as the tip brushes the back of your throat. He pulls out of your mouth with out warning, eliciting a heavy groan from him and a whimper from you. Sam smirks as he lies you down on the bed, bending and spreading your knees so he has room. He rubs the tip of his dripping cock against your glistening hole and when your hips buck up, chasing the sensation, Sam taps the head against your swollen clit.  It's soft at first, then a little harder, sending little bolts of electric euphoria through out your body. Each time he does the insides of your thighs twitch and a whimper falls from your mouth.

"Sam, I need to feel you." You beg with a moan.  You're on the edge again and you need more. Reaching to run your fingers down his chest, over the groves of his pecs, the cut muscles of his abs, "Please."

"I know," he whispers, moving down to kiss you and sliding home all at the same time. You cry out in Sam's mouth, but he swallows it and lets out a deep groan of his own.

"Jesus," he sighs roughly as he moves inside of you. "So fucking tight. So perfect." He lifts one of your legs, kissing the fleshy part of your calf, biting almost too hard and then soothing it with his warm wet whirls of his tongue. He puts your leg over his shoulder, causing his thrust to go deeper at a new delicious angle.

"Right there, Sam," you cry, on the verge of coming. "Don't stop!"

"Couldn't even if I wanted to." He murmurs in a gravelly tone, "Come with me, _________.  I wanna see you come all over my cock!"

Two more thrust from Sam and you both come, various forms of obscenities fall from both of your lips and then the two you collapse in a sweaty pile of heavy breaths and flushed skin.

After you catch your breath, you look over at Sam. He's smoothing your hair from your face and tucking it behind your ears.  "So..." you start.

He smiles.  "So..."

"All it took was dinner?" You laugh.

"I guess." He smiles. "And now it's time for the second course." Sam lifts you up and positions you over his hips, he's still hard and slides right inside you.

Spreading your fingers over his chest you lean down and kiss him. Smirking against his lips you whisper, "I wonder what dessert's going to be like?"


End file.
